


These are the things we lost (in the fire, fire, fire)

by network



Series: Destiny Shorts [7]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Between the City Assault and the New Tower, Established Relationship, M/M, Risking Your Life To Get Gifts For Your Boyfriend: The Guide, Zavala's Crochet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 09:02:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18937750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/network/pseuds/network
Summary: if these walls could talk[ Cayde explores the old Tower, reclaims some things and tries not to die. Zavala pretends not to be impressed ]





	These are the things we lost (in the fire, fire, fire)

            The old Tower is still technically an exclusion zone, but that’s never stopped him before, has it?

            Cayde sneaks in at night, scaling the crumbling walls and navigating broken floors with all the skill of a seasoned Hunter, trying his best to trace familiar routes in what remains of the hallways. By the time he reaches the old Vanguard rooms he swears it’s been hours.

            It’ll be worth it, he tells himself.

            He goes for his apartment first, well aware that there’s little of value there. He kept most of his Journals (both current and past) in various Caches, thank the Traveler, and other than that he owned little of value. When he skirts around the base of walls _(“always stick to the edges, that’s where it’s most reinforced”_ , _Andal’s voice tells him)_ he grabs anything of value he can find - a couple of sturdier books, some spare parts, one of his sets of cards – and carefully tucks them away in the backpack he’s brought with.

            Now if only he can fi- and there it is. It’s a stupid thing to get sentimental over, he thinks, but the feeling of the soft blanket Zavala had crocheted for him a few Dawnings ago sends a feeling of pure _relief_ through his mock-veins. There’s some damage to it – a few tears, the unmistakable smell of smoke – but it’s nothing a wash and ten minutes of Taevas’ sewing skills won’t fix. He tenderly folds it and tucks it into the bottom of his ‘pack.

            Ikora’s rooms are next – for her, he grabs some of the books she’d spoke most about missing and the artefacts and personal effects she’d inconspicuously slid him a list of when she realised where he was intending to go.

            And finally, Zavala’s. It’s strange to think that, in all the years they’d known each other – as tense acquaintances, tentative friends and finally whatever they are now – he’s never seen the interior of Zavala’s old apartment until now. He can’t really visualise what it would’ve looked like before the Fall, so instead he focuses on scouring the rubble for anything he can find.

            Twenty minutes later, and his bag is full, almost entirely with items for Zavala – there’s some of the most intact wool he could find, with some of the hooks and other tools he knows to be something to do with crotchet. A couple of blankets, too, with one appearing to be a work in progress. Some books, both fiction and not, and one he’d gotten two lines into reading before realising what it was – a diary - and promptly tucking it away in his bag.

            He slips away into the night, and nobody is none the wiser.

\--

            Zavala frowns as he stretches, when his questing fingertips find the bed beside him empty and cold. He worries over where Cayde could be as he slowly rouses himself, until the makeshift door creaks open. His eyes snap upwards, only to find the Hunter he’d been looking for slipping into the room.

            “Cayde” His voice is dry with sleep, and the Hunter looks concerned for a moment before realising that Zavala is simply half-asleep. “Where have you been?”

            “I’d love to tell you Blue, but I think you’d have me court-marshalled.” Zavala frowns, eyeing Cayde’s backpack warily. “Brought you a gift or two though, if that helps my case.”

            “Depends… Will this gift of yours explode?”

            “I hope not, not after all the effort I put in to get my hands on ‘em.” That really piques his interest, and Cayde sets the backpack down on the bed as Zavala rouses himself properly. When he turns back to the Hunter, there’s an array of various items laid out on the bedspread. “I already dropped by Ikora and gave her the stuff I found of hers, but…”

            Cayde trails off as Zavala realises with half-baked horror just _where_ Cayde has been. “Don’t tell me you went back to the Tower.”

            Cayde huffs. “I was careful, okay? I jus-“ He makes a noise between frustration and indignation. “I knew there was stuff there that’s important to you and Ikora.”

            “Cayde…” The Hunter refuses to meet his eyes, and Zavala pulls him in for a hug. “You shouldn’t risk yourself for a couple of possessions.”

            “I wanted to. Traveler knows you’ve been through enough…”

            Zavala’s chest rumbles with half-laughter. “Thank you, Cay.” The Hunter’s optics flick upwards imploringly at the new nickname. “What’d you find?”

            “Well, I kinda just grabbed the stuff I thought you’d want. Err, there’s a few of your blankets? And wool and stuff? Books? I didn’t know what to get for you.”

            Zavala’s fingers map the soft texture of one of his favourite wools. “It’s perfect. Thank you Cay.”

            “Thank you, Zavala.” He looks down at the Hunter, confused. “For putting up with me.”


End file.
